


Maiden Charms

by OneOddKitteh



Series: Maiden Charms [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur gets flowers, Arthur is a sulky bitch when he's insulted, Arthur loves Eames, Eames can't stop laughing, Flowers, Fluff, Language of Flowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneOddKitteh/pseuds/OneOddKitteh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone sent Arthur flowers. It'd be great- If he didn't know exactly what they meant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maiden Charms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> The reasearch for this was fun! Did you know there was a flower that means false and gay? 
> 
> Cause I may have found that a little awesome. 
> 
> Anyway- I hope you enjoy it!

It started on a Wednesday when Arthur was in the middle of really important fucking case.

“Arthur, love, do you know who’d be sending you flowers?”

Arthur was yanked out of his work with the weirdest question he’d ever heard. Who the fuck would send him flowers?

“Is there a card?” He asked absentmindedly, trying to keep his thoughts on his designs as much as possible while running through a list of people who would do such a weird thing at the same time.

“If there was a card would I ask who it could be?” Eames replied dryly, a wry smile on his face as he walked into the study. “Here. Some bloody gorgeous flowers from an anonymous lover!”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed at the British man. His mocking tone had the same jealous hints that had nearly ended their relationship many a time before. They hadn’t spoken for three months before the Inception case, after Eames broke Arthur’s brother’s face. Badly.

“Eames, I’ve got no clue who would have sent me flowers. Pass them here?”

He ignored Eames’ eye roll, taking them from his partner and examining them curiously.

“Thornless hibiscus roses and… What the fuck?”

Eames’ raised an eyebrow at Arthur’s incredulity. His face was scrunched up in disbelief, mouth hanging open slightly. He’d even turned his whole body away from the laptop, his whole concentration on the flowers.

“Two things darling. How the ever-living fuck, do you know what the flowers are? And why do you look like someone threw up on your suit?”

“Eucharis Lilies.” He said in a monotone. Someone sent me _Thornless Hibiscus Roses and Eucharis Lilies.”_

Eames blank eyes said how little that meant to him. Arthur dropped his indignation for a few seconds, sighing and slouching back in his chair, shock written in his wide eyes. He looked up at his lover, taking him in properly as he got himself together.

He couldn’t help the way his lips twitched at the flour covered apron Eames’ was sporting over his slacks and slightly stained shirt. Eames’ baked in between jobs, taking pleasure in making Arthur put weight on with their domesticity.

“My mother was a florist,” Arthur admitted in one exhale. “She…” he paused, as if searching for the right words.

Eames yanked the second desk chair over and sat on it backwards, placing his chin on his hands attentively. Arthur smiled softly and rolled his shoulders, settling in for the story.

“When I was young she taught me about flowers, their meanings and why they were important. When she passed away I forgot about a lot of it, but I still take flowers whenever I’m nearby. Zinnias’, her favourite.”

He smiled again, lost in memories. Eames liked to see this Arthur, the open, talkative Arthur. The one that told stories and laughed; even with that sad look in his eyes. The one that cuddled on the couch and fell asleep with his arms around Eames, that gave him good morning kisses even though they both had awful morning breath; ate pancakes with him and read the paper over his coffee till ten am.

Arthur took a deep breath and kept talking.

“I definitely remember these. And there is no way in fucking hell that someone would send these to me!”

The disgust on his face was almost comical. Eames held back a smile as he sat the box on the desk and wiped his hands on his suit pants.

“Thornless Roses signify love at first sight. I have absolutely no fucking idea who that would come from. And… Oh for God’s sake, don’t be so fucking ridiculous..”

Eames didn’t look convinced, glaring at the roses like they’d personally offended him and not his boyfriend.

“Idiot.”

 Arthur shook his head, eyes rolling towards the ceiling.

“The rest is rather insulting actually. Hibiscus Roses are ‘delicate beauty,’” he sneered. “Eucharis Lilies are…” He clenched his fists and glared at the flowers.

“They basically mean _maiden charms._ Someone. Sent. Me. _Girls. Flowers._ ”

Eames rush of laughter was unexpected, rude and entirely called for. He laughed like he hadn’t since Arthur fell out of bed a few weeks before, head thrown back and body shaking. Arthur stared at him; eyes carefully blank.

When Eames fell backwards off his chair Arthur decided it was time to leave the office. Walking through the apartment he stepped over the clothes strewn all over the floor and walked straight to the alcohol cabinet.

“Girl flowers,” he muttered. “Fucking girl flowers.”

He inspected the label of the whiskey with a small frown. Was it worth opening the bottle Eames’ had gotten him? He had been saving it. The laughter he could still hear sealed it. He closed the door and reached for a glass.

“Arthur, don’t be mad at me,” Eames giggled from the door of the kitchen. “You have to admit that it’s funny. Maybe they were sent to the wrong person or something?”

The point man contemplated it for a few seconds, head tilted to the side and glass half raised to his mouth. Eames grinned at him unrepentantly, laughter still in his eyes.

“Maybe.” Arthur finally allowed.

He let a small smile curl the corners of his mouth. Eames’ eyes were almost teary from his laughter. It was almost worth being insulted to see the joy in his eyes. It wasn’t marred by the usual cynicism that filled his humour. Arthur tipped his head back, downing the whiskey in one burning gulp.

“You’re certainly catching me with your maidenly charms,” Eames joked jovially.

Arthur’s glare was enough to wake you up from a dream. It softened when Eames took the empty glass and sat it on the bench however, moving into Arthur’s personal space and sitting his hands on the smaller man’s hips.

“I do love you Arthur,” He promised. “Even if you are a little delicate and lady like.”

Arthur’s indignant snarl was swallowed by Eames’ lips on his. Batting at his hands Arthur growled at the larger man.

“Asshole.”

Eames just laughed again.

“So what flowers would you give me, darling?” He rumbled into Arthur’s neck.

Swallowing desperately, Arthur thought.

“Tulips,” he decided breathlessly. “Tulips in general. Especially red and yellow. Some variegated.”

Eames nipped at his pulse point, drawing a whimper as he pressed his body flush against his partner.

“Yellow Lilies,” Arthur smiled mischievously where Eames couldn’t see.

“Mm. And what do they mean, the Tulips and Lilies?” Eames hummed against him, kissing along his stubbly jawline.

The normally put together point man tilted his head back, almost lost in sensation.

“Perfect lover.”

Eames smiled, pleased.

“Declaration of love. Love you.”

Eames actually chuckled.

“Use your words, Arthur.”

“Beautiful eyes and sunshine in your smile.” Arthur trailed off into a quiet groan, Eames biting hard on his throat.

Rather distracting for anyone, really.

“Anything else?” Eames murmured softly.

Arthur almost giggled. Fucking. Giggled.

“Yellow Lilies mean false and gay,” he said with a smirk.

“What?”

Eames' incredulous eyes were not amused as he pulled back to look Arthur in the eye. Arthur just grinned.

“You are my gorgeous forger,” he whispered. “And I’d fucking hope you’re gay.”

The full body laughter was unexpected but entirely welcome, seeing as it caused Eames to collapse against Arthur, pressing him into the bench. Arthur didn’t get much work done for the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> I got the meanings of my flowers here:  
> http://www.easyflowers.com.au/information/meanings  
> I hope they're accurate!


End file.
